ghts there brooded the shadow of the sad
possibilities that lay in wait for him, and of which he had already
felt the touch--pain, weariness, a discontented mind, jealousy,
despair, and at the end of all death, which closed the prospect
whichever way he looked. But if these things too were of the very
nature of God, His Will indeed, though obscure and terrible, the only
way was in a patient and loving submission, a knowledge that they could
not be wholly in vain; and so he resolved that his life should be even
so; that he would embrace all opportunities of showing kindness, giving
help to others; that he would live a simple life of labour, using his
faculties to the uttermost, as God should provide; and that his whole
being should be a deliberate prayer that he might do the Will of God as
affected himself, without seeking the praise or recognition of men. He
foresaw indeed much solitude, much weariness. God had never given him
one whom he could unreservedly love, though He had sent him abundance
of pure and noble friendships. Quiet dependence upon God, simplicity
of life, a readiness to serve, a strenuous use of the gifts given to
him; that was the faith in which Hugh, now late in life, and after what
profitless squandering of energies, began his pilgrimage.

IX

Art--The End of Art

It seemed strange to Hugh to sit there as he did, in his quiet house
beside the stream, with an active professional life behind him, and
wonder what the next act would be. His time was now filled with an
editorial task which would demand all his energies, or rather a large
part of them; but editorial work, however interesting in itself--and
the interest of his particular work was great--left one part of the
mind unsatisfied; that part of the mind which desired to create some
beautiful thing. Hugh's difficulty was this, that he had no very
urgent message, to use a dignified word, to deliver to the world.
Nowadays, to appeal to the world, it is necessary to do things, it
would seem, in rather a strident way, to blow a trumpet, or wave a
flag, or command an army, or reform a department of state, or control a
railroad. Hugh had neither the power nor the will to write a virile
book or a powerful story, or to take imagination captive. He did not
wish to head a revolt against anything in particular. The day of the
old, grim, sinister tyrannies, he felt, in the western corner of the
world, was over, and the kind of tyranny that